Fooled & Enlightened: The Englishman's Scottish Wife (Love's Second Chance Book 16)

by Bree Wolf

  Tears shot down her cheeks, a flood Maggie knew not how to stem. In truth, these days it felt as though Maggie knew very little. Where once she’d been certain of her path, where once she’d felt confident about her family and her role, she now wavered, uncertain where to place her steps.

  Wiping at her eyes, Maggie rested her arms on the rough stone of the parapet wall. Somehow it always helped her to remain in the here and now. It grounded her. Kept her from floating away, drawn elsewhere by thoughts that led nowhere.

  Here and now mattered.

  Nothing else.

  If only she knew how to approach Niall. If only he would talk to her. Unfortunately, all her attempts had been in vain. Not even Blair had any wisdom to share at present. Her eyes were watchful as always, but ultimately, she was only a seven-year-old girl. It was not her job to look after her brother. No, it was Maggie’s, and she was failing miserably at it. “Niall, please,” she said to the wind tugging on her curls. “My heart is breaking. What can I do?”

  A soft creak drifted to her ears, and Maggie turned, hoping that her son had finally decided to seek her out. But it was only the door, blown open by the wind and now moving slowly as the breeze swept over it, a small creak its only protest at being tossed about without its consent.

  Turning her gaze back to the land she loved, Maggie drew in a deep lungful of its fresh air, wishing it could strengthen her from the inside, give her an insight into her son’s heart and mind she was lacking. Only it didn’t.

  It couldn’t.

  Another soft creak drifted to her ears and, when Maggie glanced over her shoulder, the air was expelled from her lungs in one sharp gust. “Niall,” she gasped as her eyes fell on her wee lad, his auburn hair tousled from the wind and his dark green eyes guarded as he stood in the doorway, uncertainty in his gaze.

  Sighing, Maggie held out her hand to him, expecting him to refuse her, to turn around and walk away, taking with him the answers she so desperately needed.

  But he didn’t.

  Instead, he took a careful step forward. Then another. Until his little hand slid into hers, warm and soft and so, so vulnerable, his green eyes looking up into hers.

  Mesmerised, Maggie gazed at him, relief over this small contact warring with the fear that any second now he would pull away.

  But he didn’t.

  His little hand grasped hers tighter and, a moment later, Niall sank into her arms, his own wrapped around Maggie’s middle. Little sobs rose from his throat, and Maggie knew that the moment she’d been hoping for had finally come.

  “Tell me what’s in yer heart, mo chridhe,” Maggie whispered as she ran her fingers through his wild curls, then down his neck and over his shoulders. He felt so fragile, and yet, there was a strength in him she’d always been grateful for. “There’s nothing ye canna tell me. Nothing that could ever make me love ye any less if that’s what ye fear. Please, Niall.”

  His face remained buried in the folds of her gown, but Maggie could hear him inhale a slow, shuddering breath. “Ye’re sad when ye look at me,” he choked out on a sob. “Ye wish ye coulda married that lord and had his children. Ye never wanted Father and ye never wanted us.” His hands curled like claws into the fabric of her gown. “Ye never wanted me.”

  Shock slammed into Maggie at her son’s words and, for a long moment, she simply stood there, her hands still on his shoulders, her heart and mind unable to believe what she’d heard him say.

  “See?” Niall sobbed when she failed to react. “Ye know ‘tis true.”

  “No, it isna.” Grasping her son by the shoulders, Maggie urged him a step back so she could look into his eyes, her own filling with tears as she saw the anguish on his little face. “No, Niall, ye’re wrong. I know I shoulda told ye that long ago, but I never for a second thought ye could think that because I didna.” She held his gaze. “I never did. Not for a second, do ye hear?”

  Gritting his teeth, Niall nodded. Still, doubt remained in his eyes.

  Maggie ran a gentle hand through his hair and down his cheek. “I love ye, Niall, and I never once regretted the turn my life has taken from the moment ye came into it. You changed everything for me. The moment ye were born, I was happy. I can bear anything so long as I have ye, ye and yer sister. I love ye, and a world where ye dunna exist is one I dunna ever wish to see. Do ye hear me? I have regrets, but I never for a second regretted having ye. Ye’re the best son any mother could wish for and the day ye were born was one of the happiest days of my life.”

  Fresh tears shot to Niall’s eyes, and he once more buried his face in the folds of her gown. “I love ye, too, Mamma. I’m sorry I snapped at ye. I didna mean to make ye sad.”

  “Hush, now,” Maggie whispered as she held him tight, gently rubbing his back to soothe his sobs. “I was never sad because ye snapped at me. Ye were angry and ‘twas yer right to be.” She placed a kiss on the top of his head. “I was sad because ye were sad and I didna know why. I never for a second harboured regrets about ye and yer sister and so I didna think that ye might think I was. I’m sorry. I shoulda seen it sooner. I’m so sorry, mo chridhe.”

  Sinking to the stone floor, Maggie pulled her son onto her lap, cradling him in her arms, and her eyes closed in relief as Niall turned to her, his head coming to lie against her shoulder, his small hands grabbing her arms, holding on. She felt his warm breath against her skin as well as his tears as they dropped from his eyes. His breathing began to calm as he finally let go.

  After all these years, when he’d all but forced himself to grow up before his time, Niall finally felt like her wee lad again. The boy who’d loved to sit in her lap all morning and listen to her voice no matter what she spoke to him about. The boy who had danced through a meadow overgrown with wildflowers and then picked her the prettiest ones. The boy whose smile had never failed to melt her heart.

  And he’d smile again.

  Maggie was certain of it.

  And the thought brought her the greatest joy she’d ever known.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  A Supper Invitation

  By the time Nathan arrived for supper, he was a mess.

  His hands trembled, his heart was beating rather painfully against his ribs, and it seemed he couldn’t catch a clear thought, much less hold onto it.

  “You look out of sorts,” Ainsworth commented sardonically as they stood in a rather awkward little circle in the drawing room.

  At his remark, Lady Ainsworth shot her husband a warning glare before smiling somewhat reassuringly at her sister-in-law, Mrs. Kara Brewer, who stood arm in arm with her husband, Mr. Sean Brewer.

  Nathan felt as though he were facing a firing squad. “I admit I’m rather terrified.”

  For a moment, Nathan was caught off guard by his own remark−as were the others judging by their rather slack-jawed expressions−but then he realised that the best thing he could do was to simply be honest. After all, he’d not made an exceptionally good first impression. In fact, he’d made a rather bad one. No one in the history of the world had probably ever made a worse one.

  “I’m grateful for your invitation,” Nathan told Mr. Brewer, “and for this chance to get to know Collin. I assure you I’ve thought long and hard on what you told me the other day and I will heed your advice. You have my word.”

  Mr. Brewer nodded. “If I did not believe so, I would not have invited you here tonight.” His expression was tense, but Nathan could see the man’s good will in the way he looked at him. Of course, this was hard on Mr. Brewer as well. He’d raised Collin as his son, and he was for all intents and purposes Collin’s father.

  But now, here was Nathan.

  A man who was also Collin’s father.

  A man whom Collin wished to know.

  And for his son, Mr. Brewer was being magnanimous, placing Collins’s well-being above all else.

  Nathan would forever be grateful to him.

  When they proceeded into the dining room, the family’s children joined them. Dresse
d in their finest, they crowded around the table, scrambling onto their chairs and gazing unabashedly at their guest. Nathan was so distracted when Collin stepped into the room, he almost sat down next to his chair, but managed to catch himself in the last moment.

  The children all laughed, and when Nathan caught Collin’s grinning face, he too couldn’t help but join in.

  Fortunately, his mishap served to break the tension, and even Lord Ainsworth cracked a small smile, which, of course, he quickly replaced by a scowl once he became aware of it.

  As the three youngest children were about two years old−the twins Collette and Clifford as well as Lord and Lady Ainsworth’s daughter Odelia−supper proved to be a fairly interesting endeavour. Food moved from one plate to another, potatoes were switched for beef; beans exchanged for carrots. While Clifford seemed to have decided not to eat anything of the colour green, his sister Collette was of the opinion that only green would do. Hence, most food ended up on the floor instead of in anyone’s mouth.

  While their parents tried their best to assist their children while teaching them basic table manners−a rather failed endeavour−Nathan found himself able to exchange a few words with Collin and the boy’s five-year-old sister Claire.

  “Do you enjoy going to Hyde Park?”

  Collin nodded, the look in his eyes caught between eagerness and unease at the unfamiliarity of the situation. “I like skipping stones on the lake. One bounced five times before it went under.”

  “I tried, but I couldn’t do it,” Claire piped up, her bottom lip sticking out to portray her disappointment.

  “You’ll learn,” Collin promised her. “I couldn’t do it when I was five, either.”

  “Truly?” the girl beamed up at her brother.

  Collin nodded, then looked at Nathan. “Have you tried it?”

  “When we were children, Margaret and I used to compete against each other,” he told them, surprised at the simplicity of their conversation, at what could create a bond, a link between two people.

  Fragile, but there nonetheless.

  “Who’s Margaret?” Claire asked after another potato fell off her fork.

  “The woman he loves,” Collin explained without hesitation, and Nathan felt his head turn red at the thought of everyone else at the table overhearing. Indeed, judging by the looks of the other adults, they were not nearly as distracted by their children as they pretended to be.

  “Is she pretty?” Claire enquired with a dream-like expression on her face.

  Nathan chuckled, but Collin answered with the same ease as before. “She is, and she’s very nice. Her children are, too. You met them the other day at the park.”

  Nathan looked back and forth between brother and sister, remembering when Maggie had written to him about their coincidental encounter, which had in truth been orchestrated by little Blair. No surprise there!

  “Oh.” Claire clapped her hands together and her eyes grew round as the memory of that day returned to her. “Do you think we could play with them again?”

  Collin looked across the table at Nathan.

  “I’m afraid not,” Nathan replied, beginning to feel uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation. “They returned to Scotland a sennight ago.”

  Collin’s gaze narrowed at this news, and Nathan thought to see a question in his son’s eyes. Fortunately, he didn’t voice it for Nathan would rather not discuss his romantic life over supper.

  Seated to his right, wide-eyed Claire seemed to find Nathan utterly fascinating for she spent most of the evening staring up at him. At one point, she then chose to inform the whole table, “That man has the same mole behind his ear as Collin.”

  Shocked silence fell over the room at her innocent observation, which confused little Claire. “Is something wrong?”

  For a second, Nathan thought he would pass out, but then he found Collin looking at him, curiosity in his eyes, and everything changed.

  Chuckling, Nathan nodded. “You know, my little niece−her name is Josephine−used to think it was dirt, and she kept telling me I simply needed to scrub harder.”

  Staring at him even more wide-eyed than before, Claire then broke out laughing.

  Soon, everyone followed in.

  Indeed, it felt good to laugh.

  Once supper had come to an end, the youngest children were taken upstairs to be readied for bed while the rest of them decided to take a stroll through the gardens. The sun still cast its golden rays over the world, the air warm and comforting. Little Claire’s exuberant voice echoed across the lawn as she tried to motivate the adults to play catch with her.

  “Why did she leave?” Collin asked as he all but materialised beside Nathan. His gaze drifted to his family farther down the path before returning to the man next to him. “I thought you loved her.”

  Nathan sighed. “It’s quite complicated.”

  “Adults always say that when they don’t want to explain.”

  Smiling at Collin’s rather accurate observation, Nathan relented. “Very well.” He inhaled a deep breath and thought how best to begin. “Her son, Niall, do you remember him?” Collin nodded. “He does not approve of…a union between us.”

  Understanding came to Collin’s face. “His father died.” He looked up at Nathan as they proceeded down the path. “Niall was truly angry when I met him at the park. He said his mother never loved his father, that it made his father sad.”

  Nathan paused. “I can imagine it would,” he admitted, whispering a silent apology to Maggie’s late husband. After all, he’d done nothing wrong. He’d been a good and kind man and, in the end, he’d suffered for it.

  “Come and catch me, Collin!” Claire called from the other end of the path. “Mother and Aunt Maddie are too slow!”

  Collin waved to his sister. “I’ll catch you later.” Then he turned his attention back to Nathan. “Perhaps he’s afraid he’ll have to choose.”

  “Choose?” Nathan asked with a frown.

  Collin swallowed, his little hands tensing. “At the park, he said one cannot have two fathers.” His wide eyes looked into Nathan’s. “Blair said that that was silly.”

  Looking at his son, Nathan knew what question was occupying his mind in that moment. “Blair is a wise one,” Nathan replied with a smile. “Of course, one can have two fathers or two mothers.” He sighed. “Just as it is possible to lose a parent, one can also gain a parent. It is your choice, yours alone. No one can make it for you.”

  A small smile played over Collin’s lips, and Nathan thought to see a hint of relief come to the boy’s gaze. “Did you tell Niall that?”

  Nathan stopped in his tracks. “I…” He shook his head, then exhaled a deep breath as he stared at nothing in particular. All he could see was Maggie’s young red-headed boy, his face contorted in anger as he’d shouted at them. Apart from the following day when Maggie and her children had brought Collin to him, it had been the only moment Nathan had laid eyes on the boy. “I’ve never once spoken to him.” The moment the words fell from his tongue, Nathan realised the mistake he’d made. He’d spoken to everyone involved. To Maggie. To Blair. To Robert. To Olivia. Even to Collin. He’d shared with them how he felt and what he wished for. He’d told them about their past, about his regrets and his hopes. He’d confided in them, included them.

  However, he’d never once spoken to Niall.

  “Why not?” Collin asked, confusion clouding his eyes.

  Nathan shook his head, then looked down at his son. “I don’t know. I never realised that…I should have.” He ran a hand over his face. “Everything happened so fast. Suddenly, Maggie was back in London. Then I learnt that her husband had passed on. Then we found out that she’d only married him because she’d thought me married and−” Breaking off, Nathan stared at his son. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

  “Why not? I want to know. Should I not know?” His eyes held wonder, but also a hint of doubt.

  “It’s not that I don’
t want to share this with you,” Nathan assured him, glancing at Mr. Brewer and Lord Ainsworth, who stood on the other end of the path, pretending not to watch them. “I just…We’re only just getting to know one another and…”

  “Father said you want to be a part of my life,” Collin stated, clearly repeating his father’s words.

  Smiling at his son, Nathan nodded. “I do. Very much.”

  “It’s only fair then that I also get to be a part of yours, isn’t it?” His eyes became thoughtful. “If you marry their mother, Niall and Blair will be my family as well, won’t they?”

  Nathan was utterly touched by Collin’s words. “Would you like that?”

  “I think I would,” the boy answered carefully, but a slow smile stole onto his face nonetheless. “I like them. I think Claire likes them, too. We could all play together.”

  For a moment, Nathan stared at his son, awed by the way children were able to look past barriers that kept adults trapped. “I think I would like that, too.”

  Collin smiled, his shoulders no longer tense, his little frame at ease as he looked at Nathan with a boldness as though they’d known each other since the day he’d been born. “Will you speak to him then? Will you tell Niall that he doesn’t have to choose? Just like I don’t have to choose.”

  “I think you’re right.” Ever since speaking to Robert, Nathan had been determined to write to Maggie and urge her to assure Niall that neither one of them would ever choose a world in which any of their children had never been born. He’d meant to do so the moment he got home from this supper. But perhaps he’d been wrong about the best course of action. Perhaps it ought to be him who spoke to Niall.

  Perhaps he ought to go to Scotland.

  “I know that gentlemen often ask their bride’s father for permission to marry them,” Collin stated with a rather serious look in his eyes, concentration drawing down his brows. “Father says it’s a sign of respect and good will. He says it helps lay a groundwork that ensures no one feels neglected. After all, marriage simply means that a family is growing.” He blinked, and his features relaxed. “Perhaps you should ask Niall for his permission. It would help make him feel included.”